


Monster Under the Skin

by Lizardbeth



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Bloodlust, Demetrius - Freeform, F/M, Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-09
Updated: 2011-03-09
Packaged: 2017-10-16 20:10:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/168899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lizardbeth/pseuds/Lizardbeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fifty years ago a biowarfare experiment went wrong creating a new race of monsters to prey on humanity.   Three years ago, the monsters came back, forcing the humans to flee.  One month ago, Sam Anders realized he was one of the monsters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Monster Under the Skin

**Author's Note:**

> This follows canon closely, except the Cylons are vampires instead. The equivalent of the Centurions are 'the brutes' - monstruous vampires originally created, and Sharon is part of the 'evolved' version who keep their human features.
> 
> Just... go with it -- it's the desire and fear of discovery that's important to this story, not the fake history.

_Demetrius_ was driving him crazy. All these people, so close to him... he could smell their sweat and hear the blood pulsing under their skin.

Sam sat in the corner and knew he shouldn't have come, trapping himself in this tin can with temptation all around.

He was so frakking _hungry._ Regular food did nothing to ease it. Alcohol dulled the hunger and cigarettes diluted the smell, but both were still there. The thirst was starting to prey on his dreams. He had nightmares of stalking people through the narrow passageways in the dark, tracking them by their pounding heartbeats, and other dreams of sliding naked into a bathtub full of warm blood, sinking into it, until it covered his head and into his open mouth. He started to tie his ankles together before he slept, fearful that he'd sleepwalk and attack someone.

He kept waiting for someone to notice, to realize what he was. _I'm not a human, I'm a vampire. I'm a killer, I'm a monster._ But no one knew. So far he had kept it under control, and didn't take what he wanted to take so badly. But it was always there, cramping his stomach, a burning coal lodged under his ribs.

Sharon should've known, he thought, somehow resentful and yet grateful at the same time. He didn't want her to know, because she would tell, but at times he thought it would be better if they got it over with. He was jealous that she didn't appear to have any problems controlling herself, and if she was feeding from Helo, it had to be only a little, since Helo was never weakened. He wanted to know how she did it, because he was sure he could never stop if he started. He'd seen the brutes drain humans to death.

He went out on CAP as often as he could. Helo thought it had something to do with Kara, and Sam let him think that. But really Kara was the least of it, since fighting and sex with her helped dull the hunger to a gnawing ache. It was the rest of the time that was getting more difficult.

Being on his own in a Viper was his only refuge. There was nothing to smell or hear out there in the black, only himself. He could turn off the wireless and scream himself hoarse. It helped, a little, to yell at the gods for how this shouldn't even be possible. He couldn't be a vampire, he hadn't been one, he hated them, he was human, and how could he suddenly _realize_ he'd been one all along? The rest of his life he hadn't wanted blood, and he had walked in the sun without harm. It was impossible. And yet, there was no denying the truth that he and the other three had 'awakened' at the nebula with a craving for blood, a sudden improvement of their senses and strength, and scary long canines he could extend at will. They were suddenly vampires, though they hadn't been before. Or they had always been, but something had let them live as humans all these years.

He didn't understand any of it, but that didn't make the need less intense. He kept a constant refain in his mind, trying to remind himself of what he was: he was human, not a monster; he didn't really _need_ the blood, since he'd lived without for all these years. But that didn't help when Jean cut her finger on some machinery and the scent of blood filled the common room. His teeth stabbed into his inside lip, extending like a reflex, and he focused on that little pain, keeping his lips closed over his teeth and his jaw clenched. One hand balled into a fist under the table, as he made himself stay still. The other hand he kept around his cup, even after he'd drained the liquor from it.

 _No, I will not stand up and go to her. I will not go closer. I will not look at it. I will not smell it, I will not pay any attention. She cut her finger. She is my best friend, and I will not be a monster. I will not._

He escaped as soon as he could and went to the metal bar mounted in the forward passage. He did pull-ups until his muscles burned with the strain and he felt more in control.

When he dropped to the floor, Seelix was there, watching with her eyes full of appreciation and her heart rate elevated. "How many was that?" she asked, no doubt believing she was playing it cool. "I counted twenty-nine and I got here after you'd started."

He shrugged. "I don't count. I do them until I'm tired." He tried to push past her in the corridor, but she stood her ground in his way.

"We had some fun before Starbuck came back," she murmured and her hand lightly traced down his shoulder and arm. "We could have that again, if you need something else to work out your... frustrations."

Her scent was pure lust and the quick thump of her heart was loud in his ears. Abruptly, the hunger rose through him like something alive. He leaned in, and she tilted her head back. His lips touched her neck. She shivered, "Sam..."

He licked her delicate skin, feeling her vein pulsing under his tongue. It would take so little to puncture it. He could smell the blood inside her, and he wanted it. Needed it. It was a fever burning him up. One little taste...

Shoving himself back from her, he hit the opposite bulkhead. "No. I'm married. And I wouldn't frak you, even if she was still gone." He saw her eyes grow cold with hurt, and thought that at least it would keep her away from him. He brushed past her, shaking. Gods, he'd almost done it.

But after that moment showed him how close to the edge he was, he started to fixate on the idea that fake blood would help ease the strain. The medical kits all had blood crystals, for mixing with saline as an emergency blood replacement. There were seven kits on board, including the Vipers. It was better to steal a packet from a medical kit than attack anyone. But he had to be careful and steal only one.

So while checking some valves near the fuel lines, far away from everyone else, he crept to the engine room medical kit, looked around, and filched the packet from it. In a corridor barely wide enough to get through, where it was dim and hot and smelled of grease, he tore the packet open with trembling hands, praying this worked. He should reconstitute them with water first, but he didn't want to wait. He dumped the packet in his mouth, as if it was a sugar for his coffee back in the days before the vamps had come back.

The taste bloomed on his tongue, coppery and salty and sweet, and it made everything else taste like sand by comparison. And swallowing it ... relief and satiation swept through him as pure pleasure, leaving him gasping and shaking.

Blood didn't merely stop the hunger pangs, as he'd hoped; it gave him an intense rush that left him spent against the conduits. It felt like tasting heaven after living in hell so long.

"Oh gods. What have I done?" It had been a terrible mistake, because now he knew what he was missing.

"I won't do it again," he promised himself in a whisper, licking the last of the crystals out of the packet. "I won't. I'll keep control. I won't touch it again."

He lasted four days. It was easy to convince himself that no one would ever notice the missing packet from the Viper emergency kit. He hid in the head near the racks and ripped off a corner. He would put a little of the crystals on his tongue to take the edge off the need. That would help ration it. But the first taste shot through him, true ambrosia, and he couldn't move his hand away, letting the rest of it pour into his mouth. He gulped it down, closing his eyes against the sight of his own reflection, letting the rush shudder through him. It was junkie behavior, getting his fix, and he knew it, but it didn't matter.

It felt so good, like the aftermath of sex, but with the added benefit of clearing his mind and taking away the pain of his hunger. He lingered in the euphoria for as long as he could.

Finally he roused, catching his breath. He rinsed his mouth, threw the packet down the toilet, and looked at his face, making sure he had no red flecks on his skin or tongue. It seemed too ironic that he looked healthy when he felt like his guilty secret should be imprinted on his skin. His eyes should be red, not stay blue. "I have to stop," he murmured. "I can't do it again."

There were only five packets left. Even if he could hold out and take only one a week, or manage to ration it, who knew how long this mission would last? If they didn't get back to _Galactica_ before he ran out, he was going to want more. What if he lost control? He could kill someone. Or reveal himself and get killed.

He bent to the counter, hands to his head. "I am frakked," he whispered. "So frakked."

He wanted to laugh now at his dogged determination to win stupid pyramid games, when the games had been for fun and money. He'd thought they were important.

Then the games had turned deadly and losing meant death, or worse. He'd fought vamps when they spread like a plague. He'd watched them pull his teammates from his grip and rip their throats out. He'd seen his own friends rise as monsters and others rise still looking like his friends, but monsters insisde. He'd shot them, staked them, cut off their heads, set buildings on fire... and still they'd spread. He'd fought when there seemed to be no hope of winning.

This was another war. This time he was fighting a war inside himself, but he had to fight it. He had to pick himself up from this setback and keep going.

He splashed water on his face and ran his fingers through his hair, standing it up in wet spikes. Then he met his own eyes and squared his shoulders, drawing in a breath and leaning on his fists against the sink. "Day by day. Hour by hour. I will do this. I will take control, and I will not allow this to rule me."

But it was easy to make the promise when human blood was mixed with his, and he felt well-fed and content.

When the feeling started to wear off and the need started to gnaw at him again, he went to see Kara, knowing one way or another, she would chase it away for a little while.

As usual, he was deliberately provoking, because he knew anger and taunting would become something else, but also, because under the lash of her words was when he felt the least guilty for what he had become.

Until she picked the wrong words.

"You dumb motherfrakker. I only married you because you were safe and you were easy," she sneered at him. "And you were pathetic enough to --"

He burst out laughing, cutting her off. He laughed and laughed until tears came from his eyes and he fell against the bulkhead holding his stomach. ' _safe and easy_ '. He was the safe and easy choice. The monster inside him wanted to shove her into the wall, rip out her throat and drink her blood, and he was the _safe_ one.

She frowned at him, not getting why that was so hilarious, and that made him laugh, too. "What the frak is wrong with you?"

Then he stopped laughing but shook his head. "What the frak isn't wrong with me?" he demanded, his own anger curdling to match hers. "You think you're the only one frakked by the gods? Well, you're not." He advanced on her, and she held her ground, glaring at him.

"Get out."

He smirked at her. "What're you gonna do? You lie to me and you lie to yourself, until you don't even know what the truth is anymore."

"And you do?" she challenged. "Get the frak out." She shoved, and he let her push him into the bulkhead.

"You keep saying that, but it's not what you want." He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her close, into his body. He coud hear her heart beat thumping in his ears, smell her arousal, and by now he knew very well what she really wanted. They'd danced this dance before.

"Oh yeah?" She clenched a fist as if she was thinking about hitting him, but he caught her wrist. She pulled free but pressed into him, mouth hovering a  
above his and against his cheek, as her mood changed quicksilver quick. "I don't want to fight. I want to frak..."

Which was what he wanted to do, too, lose himself in her body and the heady familiar scent of her. She scratched at him, when he thrust into her, her nails trailing fire down his skin, and he let the pain and pleasure drown out the hunger. "More, Sam," she demanded, and pushed against him. He pulled out and flipped her over, and she nearly choked on her complaints as he thrust back inside. As he frakked her from behind, he bit at her shoulder, just lightly and with normal teeth, and she bucked beneath him crying his name.

She tightened on him and his hunger suddenly surged inside, on a tide of lust. He imagined himself using his fangs in her neck, penetrating her twice, her blood like sweet poison on his tongue. He frakked her harder, trying to get rid of the image, but he couldn't with her scent in his nose and her heat unbearably all around him.

She was panting and writhing beneath him, as he made her come again and then finally, it was too much to hold back and he fell right over the edge, body taking complete control, pleasure rising up, completely obliterating his senses.

He came back to awareness, on top of her, panting and shaking in reaction. "Gods."

"That all you got?" she taunted, but wearily.

He wanted to tell her to be careful what she asked for, but he said only, "You want more, you've got fingers. I'm done." He rolled off to one side, onto his back, still trying to breathe and cool down. "That what you wanted?"

"I ... don't know," she answered in a different voice. "It helped. I just... I feel like everything's so far away. Nothing's real."

"It's real," he answered. All too real, even though it felt like a nightmare. At least the hunger was cold and quiet, momentarily silenced by a different rush.

"I'm a stranger in my own body, and I don't feel what I used to. Except you. You ... ground me. Remind me of me." She murmured, more to herself, "I don't know if that's good or bad."

He didn't answer. He wanted to say that it had to be good, but hell, he was a monster, so maybe it was bad. Maybe he was anchoring her here when she should be free. But he couldn't stop. Whatever she was, whatever she'd become, however she'd come back, she grounded him, too.

He chuckled once, thinking how neither of them were human, but they kept each other human.

She glanced at him, frowning. "Don't go crazy on me, Sam."

"Why not? You have a monopoly on it?" he retorted tiredly. He stared up at the ceiling and the design she had painted up there. "Maybe I should just snap and get it over with. Then I won't give a frak about anything. It'll be easier."

Surprising him, she turned, put a leg over him, and settled on top of him like a warm, naked blanket. "No, you can't," she said, and she murmured into his chest, "I know it's crazy but I have to find Earth. I have to, it's ... in my blood, Sam, like a fire. I have to. Tell me you get it."

Oh he did; he ached with how much he understood. But he had to try to resist his, as much as she had to let hers overcome her. He reached up one weary hand and caressed her back, loving these few moments she let him see the truth. "I understand, baby," he whispered. "You want it so badly, and it's this voice in your ears that calls to you and sometimes you can't hear anything else."

She looked down into his face, as if surprised he understood, and nodded slowly. "Yeah."

He wondered if she'd ask how he knew, and what he would answer if she did, but she didn't. She put her head down on his chest, hands tucked around him. "When I find it, when we're there, it'll be better," she said in a soft promise. "Everything will be better."

"I hope so." Pressing a kiss into her hair, he tried to ignore the sound of her heart beat slowing. He wanted to believe her, but she didn't know the truth. Maybe everything would be better for her and the Fleet, but not for him.

Part of him wanted to confess, but he held his silence. The monster would come out eventually and reveal the lie, that seemed inevitable, but at least, this way he'd have another moment to remember.

For a little while.

  
* * * *  
end.  



End file.
